Chocolates
by Duckula Sunk My ROFLship
Summary: England finds America slowly licking one of the chocolates he gave him for Valentine's Day, and is enchanted...


This is the life. Leant back in my chair, feet resting on desk, surrounded by chocolate, hamburger in hand. I look around the room, lord of all I survey. I catch sight of one particular box of chocolates. Stuffing the burger in my pocket for a moment, I swing my legs onto the floor and wander over. The label reads,

"To America,

Happy Valentine's Day.

England"

I stroke the label gently with my thumb, and open the box once again. I like England's chocolate the most. It's not as nice as France's or Belgium's, of course, but it's sweeter than my own, and the very fact that they are from him is just...

I imagine they were prepared by his own fair hand. They were not, of course; they were made by some English nobody. But I can always dream...

I pick out a chocolate. It smells so good. I slowly run my tongue along the smooth surface.

"Mmmmmmm..."

-

"Mmmmmmm..."

This is what I hear as I open the door. I peek my head around first, unsure.

"America? I seem to have left my..." I stop and stare. America is licking a chocolate, moaning, incredibly... Sexily. I look at the box next to him. That is one of my chocolates, one of the ones I gave him! What is he...? He drops the chocolate in surprise and looks at me guiltily. "What were you just..." I begin to ask.

"Aah, nothing! I wasn't – doing anything!" He laughs nervously. I walk towards him and he straightens up from his crouch. I look into his eyes, searching. Telling myself I hate him... I hate him! Ungrateful sod.... He lurches forward, taking me by the shoulders!

-

England's eyes are so beautiful... I can't help myself any more. I take him by the shoulders and kiss him fiercely. He tries to fight me off at first, but then starts to kiss back. England tastes of the things he likes the most, the faint taste of scones fading behind the stronger taste of what he calls "fish and chips". I dig my tongue further into his mouth as I feel his hands exploring me. He reaches into my pockets, then quickly draws them out again.

"Do you... Have a burger in your pocket?" he asks me, and I nod guiltily. "That's disgusting, burger brain!" he breathes, kissing me harder. "You're a complete _slob_. I can't... Understand... How you can... Ohh... Live like this..." he murmurs in-between kisses. When I don't reply, he grips my arm, digging his fingers in. "Talk dirty to me."

"What?"

"With your stupid Americanisations of my language!"

I blink.

"Oh, err..." Then I smile. "I put my empty chip packets in trash cans by the sidewalk... I spell words without 'u's and drink carbonated drinks from aluminum cans..."

"Oh god," mutters England, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling my lips closer.

-

America smells of American things. McDonalds and salt. He is delicious. He makes me so angry. I hate him. And I love him. I correct each word he says in my head. He puts his empty crisp packets in the rubbish bin by the pavement... Words that want – no, _need_ 'u's are always given them, and he drinks fizzy drinks from aluminium cans... Oh, god, he is so _stupid_. Why can't he just embrace my culture like he used to? Why does he have to twist it so? Oh, his hair is so soft. I take out my anger with him through passion. I hate him, I love him, I want to hurt him, I want to...

-

England starts to unbutton his jacket. He always has been quick to strip down... His jacket is off, discarded, on the floor. Next goes his tie, and he unbuttons his shirt too. Then he starts to take off _my_ jacket. I'm not sure I want to do this just yet...

-

I want to see him undressed, I want to see him undressed, I want to do things to him... I push him down into a chair and straddle him, taking off his tie. Behind his head is a window, and through the window I see... France. I yell in alarm, and jump off America.

"What – what is it?" he asks, bewildered. I just shake my head, grab my clothes and run. To think that France saw me... With America... I pick up a rock and throw it at one of his windows in anger.

"_You stupid wanker!_" My cheeks burn with the shame! As soon as I get home I shall hide with my friends and never come out!

-

… Does he not like me after all? I am confused and upset...


End file.
